


Cold Kitty Seeking Warmth

by ChaoticNeutral



Series: Tumblr Works [6]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Cold, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 19:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18723121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticNeutral/pseuds/ChaoticNeutral
Summary: Adrien is tired and wants nothing more than to sleep.But it's cold.His house is cold.Cats don't like cold places.





	Cold Kitty Seeking Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> In which Adrien has a problem. And blankets are dirty rotten liars that do nothing.

* * *

 

It was cold.

 

He was drawn out of sleep with the gnawing realization of the sense of the feeling in the face of the fact of the truth.

 

He blinked, bewildered by the strange thought.

 

…he needed to sleep more. Clearly three hours over two days was not enough.

 

But it was cold.

 

He twisted and squirmed, but the cold could not be escaped from. With a groan of frustration, he rolled across the bed, getting tangled up in his sheets until he was one giant cocoon on his bed. Surely this would protect him.

 

It didn’t. The blasted chill permeated his protective shelter, settling into his very bones and making the soft blankets coarse and caging. Minutes passed with no change. If anything, the feeling got worse. He was constrained and restricted and he was fairly certain one arm was bent behind his back at an awkward angle and that he was losing feeling in his right leg.

 

And for all the discomfort, he was still so very cold.

 

He curled in on himself but it made no difference. He only felt more trapped and helpless to his current torment.

 

With some struggle, he slowly managed to work his way out of his cocoon of lies and false protection. He glared at the disheveled remnants of cloth in dismay and betrayal. How could it do this to him?

 

He shuddered.

 

It was _cold_.

 

Shakily, he forced himself to his feet and towards the box on the wall. That made the warmth come, didn’t it?

 

“Kid? What’s going on?”

 

He blinked blearily at the screen, trying to make out the numbers and figure out their meaning. 23C? What did that even mean? It clearly wasn’t enough, whatever it meant, so he fumbled with the controls without really understanding, just hoping that whatever he did would bring in some kind of warmth.

 

31C? Was that better? It didn’t feel better. He was still so cold.

 

“Whoa, whoa! Adrien, what are you doing?!”

 

Something was making noises and floating around his head, but it wasn’t helping so he ignored it.

 

He was so tired and so cold. He just wanted to curl up into a ball and _sleep_ but it was impossible. How could anyone be expected to sleep when the cold permeated everything? He couldn’t even rely on the bed and its blankets of horrible, horrible bitter lies. Lies and untruths.

 

Stupid lying bed. See if he ever trusted it again.

 

He shivered, unable to help himself. It was too much. He desperately craved warmth but no amount of blankets or messing with the thermostat made a difference.

 

Of course it didn’t, some wiser part of him whispered. That was heat, not warmth.

 

He groaned in frustration. While he appreciated the clarification, it would help if the voice would tell him how to get the sweet blessed warmth he needed.

 

He…he needed to get to the warmth, didn’t he?

 

Where was warmth?

 

Something tugged at his senses and in his far from being anywhere near awake and alert, he was too weak to resist. If anything, he was desperate to find this…whatever it was that could appease the aching and make the coldness go away—if it just meant he could rest.

 

Following the impulse and the sweet promise of relief, he stumbled towards the window and unlatched the locks, opening the path to outside and freedom.

 

“Oh no. Come on, kid, snap out of it!”

 

“Claws out.” He mumbled absently as he shuffled towards the opening and lept into the night.

 

He needed warmth. Needed to find warmth. Needed to go to the warmth.

 

But where was the warmth?

 

He paused after landing on a roof, realizing that he still had no answers. He was out of the cold place and it was now not AS cold, but still cold. Too cold to relax. Too cold to sleep. And he didn’t know what to DO!

 

He started whining pitifully.

 

He just wanted to be warm!

 

He was outside now. His nose picked up scents of flowers and trees that sung of summer, but he didn’t understand. Summer was hot. This couldn’t be summer, it was too cold to be! Still too cold, though not as bad as the place he’d just left. But not enough difference to appease the ache in him.

 

He needed warmth.

 

He groaned in frustration and forced his tired aching mind to think of warmth and warm things.

 

Warm things?

 

He paused, confused. And slowly, some semblance of realization trickled in.

 

He thought of smiles and gentle hands. Soft threads and yarn. Croissants and freshly baked bread. Cookies. Chocolate. Flowers. Sweet and fresh and pleasant smells.

 

Nice smells. Happy smells.

 

A feeling settled in his chest.

 

_Warmth._

 

The smell lingered in his mind more than in the air, but he trailed after it nonetheless to the destination his heart seemed to yearn for.

 

He followed the feeling more like he was being pulled along by a leash than having any real idea of the direction he was headed in, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t even take much notice of his surroundings or where he was headed. His feet seemed to know where to go, and if wherever they were taking him would do something about the damn cold, then he would happily follow where they led.

 

Which was silly. His feet weren’t detachable. And he was pretty sure they didn’t have minds of their own.

 

But they were still taking him…somewhere.

 

Like a siren or Pied Piper, he followed the call across streets and over buildings. Moving as quickly as his much smarter feet would allow. Desperate to get to wherever they were heading. Until finally, he landed on a rooftop that seemed somewhat familiar somehow.

 

No, not a rooftop. A balcony.

 

_Here._

 

Finally. Warmth. The damn cold started to ebb and he could have cried in relief. The warmth calling to him had come from this place. This pleasant, nice place.

 

He turned in circles a couple of times, noting the many vibrant plants, the strung lights, and ooh! Chair! Bright chair! Pretty chair! Comfy chair?

 

He rested a hand on the piece of furniture. Though the glove limited his ability to feel, there was still a nice sensation. And it was sturdy.

 

Comfy chair.

 

His eyes swept across the rest of the little sanctuary until they fell upon the door. The closed door, he noted sadly. Closed and locked and barring him from the precious warmth inside.

 

But that was okay. This place was full of warmth, so much so as to practically emanate it. He could feel the blasted cold finally starting to melt away just by being near. Though now that the cold was dealt with, exhaustion was starting to seep in.

 

Could he maybe rest here?

 

The chair was there. Comfy. Unclaimed. Calling to him. And the pleasant feelings settled into his muscles and made him relax and start to droop.

 

Was it okay?

 

The big place he left was empty and cold. This place was smaller and so deliciously appealing to his dulled senses.

 

Unable to resist and having no inclination to even try, he gave in to the siren call and curled up in the chair.

 

Peace. No more cold. No more ache. He sighed in relief.

 

_Warm._

 

With that last thought, his eyes closed.

 

He dreamed of croissants and ladybugs.

**Author's Note:**

> The "cold" in this case isn't the absence of heat but the absence of warmth.
> 
> Aka: "love".
> 
> Good thing the Dupain-Cheng bakery is full of love. And a rather kind classmate who wouldn't be the type to kick out a kitty in need.


End file.
